


Old Grand Piano

by Ren_Maisley



Series: FE3H Fluffcember 2020 [12]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffcember 2020, Gen, Letters, Loneliness, Memories, Mentioned Claude von Riegan, Mentioned Holst Goneril, Music, Piano, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28083861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren_Maisley/pseuds/Ren_Maisley
Summary: Hilda misses her brother and best friend. Lorenz tries to cheer her up in his own way.Written for Fluffcember Day 12: "Music"
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril & Claude von Riegan, Hilda Valentine Goneril & Holst Goneril, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester & Hilda Valentine Goneril
Series: FE3H Fluffcember 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046761
Kudos: 2





	Old Grand Piano

Verdant Rain Moon wasn’t supposed to turn out this horribly. 

Hilda had dared to hope for a month of respite after all the dangerous missions she’s been forced to go on. But now her class was tasked with retrieving some stupid Relic from some stupid bandit in the icy wasteland of Faerghus, all because her professor was so darn competent!

She sent a letter to her brother the previous month, asking him to visit and spoil her for a while, no matter how busy he was. Hilda was going to make him buy her a cute winter cloak for her dreadful mission and then she’d fashion him a stylish accessory in exchange. Holst always wore whatever she made for him, at least for a little while. But she forgot about the stupid roundtable conference he _had_ to attend, so his letter back reminding her had just depressed her-- and didn’t have nearly enough apologies!

Even though her hopes have been squashed, Hilda always thought that Claude would be there to commiserate with her. He’d go shopping with her himself and tell jokes to make her laugh. But when he was recalled back to Leicester for the stupid conference to fill in for his grandfather, Hilda had nearly cried. How could her luck be so horrible?

So now she was sitting on a rickety piano stool in an empty music room, where no one would look for her. She absently tapped the same key on the old grand piano in front of her over and over, letting the dull repetition wash over her. Maybe she should just take a nap, she didn’t have the energy to do anything at all.

“Excuse me? Is someone in here?”

Hilda recognized the voice of the visitor immediately. She sighed and slumped across the keyboard, creating an unpleasant ringing throughout the room as Lorenz entered, wincing at the noise.

“Sorry Lorenz, I’m not really in the mood to deal with you right now.” Hilda said, subdued.

Lorenz frowned, but ignored the slight. “Greetings Hilda, I didn’t know you were a fellow pianist.”

“I’m not,” Hilda grumbled, avoiding Lorenz’s gaze. “I just went where no one would bother me. Like you are. Right now.”

Lorenz hummed, not seeming to notice Hilda’s blatant “stay away” warning. “Is something wrong Hilda? I will gladly lend an ear if that is the case.”

“That’s nice of you to offer Lorenz. If you were Claude or my brother, I might take you up on that.” Hilda shut her eyes, willing the conversation to stop.

Swallowing his remark from the mention of Claude, Lorenz nodded to himself. “Well, if listening to you will not improve your mood, perhaps you could listen to me.”

Lorenz walked up next to where Hilda was sitting and gestured for her to move over. She sat up, finally sparing him a glance, and reluctantly made room for him. The purple-haired boy sat down on the long piano stool gracefully, and without further introduction, started playing the piano with an air of expertise.

It took Hilda a couple moments to place the song, but when she did, a whole rush of memories flooded her mind.

It was an old Alliance song that was exceedingly popular at balls and dances back in Leicester. Holst twirled her around to this song every year at the Autumn Ball. All the nobles flocked to that event to socialize and play politics, but her brother always spared her a couple dances with his undivided attention.

Hilda also met Claude for the first time at last year’s Autumn Ball, and when the song played for the second time near the end, he asked her for a dance with exaggerated politeness. She had giggled and accepted, taking his hand and being led into a dance full of Claude’s sly remarks about the other nobles and Hilda’s poorly-stifled laughter. At the end of the ball, when he had kissed her hand and bade her goodnight, Hilda, her cheeks flushed and feet sore, felt quite happy that she had made a new friend.

Did Lorenz know that this song was one of her favorites? He had been present at those dances as well, though they only interacted through pleasantries. Or did he just play on a whim, hoping to cheer her up? Either way, she was grateful.

Hilda chose not to express that gratitude, however. She tilted her head up and held her arm over her eyes, sitting quietly next to the solemn Lorenz as he played song after song, just for her.


End file.
